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| User: | rabthestrange (205454) |
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| Name: | Rabastan Raphael Lestrange | |||||||||
| E-mail: | he_sleeps_it_off@yahoo.com | |||||||||
| Bio: |  Name: Rabastan Louis Lestrange Age: 45 Bloodline: Pure History: He is born and there isn’t a lot of rejoicing. He’s just another pureblood boy of good breeding that will be raised like a clone. He is Rabastan Lestrange, and at the youngest of ages he figures out how his life is going to work. He wants attention? Some form of affection? Maybe a bit of love showered upon him? He had better do good like older brother Rodolphus, and he had better take a liking to the ideals of the family. He is born, he grows and he thinks he is living the grand life when he laughs at cruel and inappropriate jokes about muggles and when he learns all the right ways to insult a mudblood. He is born, he grows and he thinks he is living, but he doesn’t know any better. He doesn’t know that what he is doing is actually surviving. He’s smart though. He takes to reading any book his parents will let him put his hands on. All dark books, of course, no muggle literature, fictional or non. He’s got a lot of limits in his life but he doesn’t realize this, because no one is telling him he’s limited. Everyone says he’s so free with the power of the Lestrange purity in his veins. Free to one day rule over halfbloods and muggles alike, with his parents, his brother, his brother’s friends and his parent’s friends and that to-be-feared-and-worshiped Dark Lord. Soon it’s “Welcome to Hogwarts, Rabastan..” The Sorting hatt had taken only a second to sort Roddy into Slytherin, so why does it hesitate when placed on Rabastan’s head? “You don’t want it enough. You’re too smart. Ravenclaw.” “No! Please, Merlin, no, anything but.. I want it, I want it. Slytherin, you don’t understand!” “I understand, and maybe it’s enough now, but it’s not going to stay this way. “ “SLYTHERIN!” He shuffles off to meet his peers. Some he already knows as friends of family. Most bore him. He hasn’t quite told anyone this, but he finds it hard to make a full day out of insults. He tries and tries for a full year and then Rodolphus graduates to bigger and badder things, leaving Rabastan alone in this tight knit group of... of.. “Idiots.” He who loves a good book is attracted to the likes of a giant library. At first he reads up on school related things. He wants to be as good as Roddy is with potions, and he wants to excel at charms like father. He wants to one day be an animagi... he wants a lot, but it’s not for a very good reason. He just wants attention, affection, maybe love. And one day, when he’s finished the majority of Magical History books he glances over to a small section of mundane books of... “Muggle History?” Curiosity is a Ravenclaw trait, they say. The moment he opens his first muggle book, he can’t put them down. “What are you doing?” There is a girl who watches him sometimes from the Hufflepuff table. She has a large smile, dark hair, blue eyes. He sometimes stares back, tries to sneer but she always smiles back at him in such a warm way and there she is, peeking over his shoulder as he reads about Napoleonic Wars. “Reading,” he mutters. And when she asks next time? “Reading about.. muggle.. wars. Why do you care?” And the next time?? “Have you ever heard about the avian flu epidemic. It was this..” “Muggle disease, yeah, not as bad a Dragon Pox, but they didn’t have a cure, did they? Killed so many. I’m a halfblood, you know.” “I know.” “And you’re not.” “Obviously not.” “So... why are you reading this stuff then?” “Curiosity.” “It killed the cat. You want a good book to read? Here. See if you can stomach it.” He takes it. He doesn’t mean to be so nice. Sure he’s scowling and maybe he looks a bit cold, but he’s being awfully nice by not telling her to piss off. Because she gives him attention, affection... someday, she’ll give him love. He takes the book and doesn’t think he’ll actually read it. Until one day he’s convinced himself he’s got nothing better to do anyways, so why not see why she is so eager to give him a book to read? He throws up three hours later, feels sick to his stomach and he can’t eat at dinner time. She knows where to find him, and he’s re-reading the last few chapters in between dusty stacks in the mostly empty library. “This is bullshit,” he mutters, handing the book back to her. She stares hard at her copy of The Rape of Nanking and shakes her head. “It’s history. May not be a wizard’s history, but it still happens. Illogical and sickening, and worse atrocities happened in Germany at the same time. I’ve got books on it. You can read them too.” “I don’t want to fucking read them!” “Why? I thought you’d enjoy reading about how muggles were tortured,” and he’s never seen her so angry before. “It’s... it’s not the same.” “It’s exactly the same. You think the torture of these human beings is so illogical and yet you laugh at the same racist shit spewed by your housemates. You can’t think one way is different and the other is fine. It’s the same damn thing. I thought you’d realize this by now. We’re not that different, we just... we just use different energy sources. A bullet can kill you as easily as a killing curse. Just as fast and deadly.” Her rant makes his stomach knot up and he takes her stupid books. Three years later he’s a loner and his family suspects. Nothing is said, but he knows his former friends are talking about him behind his back. He knows the girl he’s fallen hard for gets a lot of shit for being with him. They don’t care, they worry about bigger things. Like when he graduates, can he possibly go home and live a lie? He feels like a Gryffindor suddenly, with a lot of bravery in his bones. His seventh year is the last time he sees her for good, and that wasn’t the plan at all. He goes home. “I can’t.” “What do you mean you can’t?!” “I.. just can’t. Disown me, kick me out. I don’t care.” They care. In their own sick way, his parents care. They don’t want their Lord to kill their baby boy so they do what they must in such a time. In 1981, Rabastan Lestrange is placed under a heavy Imperius Curse by his own parents. He then unwillingly performs unforgiving curses on Frank and Alice Longbottom with the aid of others. He can’t believe he did it when the next day rolls around, and this is because a big part of his memory of doing it, of trying to resist a sudden curse from his father’s wand, has been obliviated. When placed under truth serum and questioned about the events, the only honest way he can answer is, “I don’t know! I don’t remember!” He is sentenced to life in Azkaban and he can not escape his fate. Years are spent in the damp cell of Azkaban and in this span of time he looses his mind. Did he do it? Did he mean to do it? Was it a curse? He knew he wouldn’t if asked again to do it, but that doesn’t matter to the Wizengamot. He is freed with others years later when Dementors side with his family’s risen Dark lord. And he says he won’t do it. He says he’d rather be dead than do it, but weak in mind and spirit. his brother acts quickly and places the Imperius Curse about Rabastan again. The man his a puppet for the years between his escape and the death of Dark Lord Voldemort. And then finally he is caught, given a serum again, and now he can say what he knows to be true. “I was placed under the Imperius Curse.” “By who?” “By Rodolphus Lestrange.” “Why?” “I refused to do Voldemort’s bidding.” “Have you always refused?” “I have been against Voldemort since I was thirteen.” “And yet you tortured the Longbottoms, why?” “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” “Why?” Finally. God. FINALLY someone bothers to inquire. “It is my belief I had my memory modified in regards to if I was under the Imperius Curse or not on that night.” “Do you think you were under the curse that night?” “Yes.” Some are reluctant to believe, but others know he can’t tell a lie when he has taken such a copious amount of truth serum. The majority rule and Rabastan Lestrange is a free man, acquitted of all charges past and present. Told that, despite being believed that he was under the curse, he would have to bi-monthly meet up with an Auror as be watched closely for signs of breaking Wizarding Law. He lives above Flourish and Botts in a flat across from the flat of a man who runs the bookstore. This man gives him a job, restocking books, when no one else will, gives him a smile and talks to him when no one else will. Rabastan is free, though, so even if he isn’t trusted by others at least he can say for once that he is living, not simply surviving. Personality: He is a strange case. Most would assume by the name alone that he is bad news, perhaps temperamental and cruel, if not snobby and controlling. He turns out to be none of those things, though he will be honest and say he was perhaps all of those and more as a child. These days, Rabastan comes off as a soft-spoken man with a tendency to want to be nicer than not. He still wants to be noticed, and loved, but he knows most refuse his company due to his past and they could care less if the Wizengamot backs him up when he says he did it all unwillingly. This leads the man to live a pretty lonely life, and thus, despite wanting to be a kind and good person to make up for all the horrible things he has done, he can be quite depressed. He has been known for biting his tongue and refusing to argue, he tries hard to be a good Samaritan, and he tries even harder to let the insults of those who think of him as a traitor to roll off his shoulders. Perhaps the oddest quirk he has is a tendency to befriend muggles these days more than magical folk. Though he can feel awfully guilty when around them, there are a few who honestly cheer him up and like him because they don’t know who he was once forced to be. It is, perhaps, because muggles don’t know his history and they are easier to befriend. Some are slightly weary of his appearance, however, but he doesn’t ever bother dressing down for muggles. He has some mental damage from the curses he has endured and the amount of prison he has endured, which cause him to sometimes disassociate his psyche from his body. In these moments, he tends to grow glassy eyed and will mumble to himself an awful lot. He is currently looking into taking potions to keep these episodes from happening too much. In regards to women, Rabastan is not sure what to do. He does enjoy the female form as much as any hot-blooded male, but he simply feels awkward around them. Ever since his first love he’s felt this way and it was only her that ever made him feel comfortable. He has never pursued a woman before and finds he might be too old and strange for any woman to want him. Appearance: Rabastan always looks somewhat tired. He’s got pale, sallow flesh and has lines along his face that denote his age of forty-five. His hair is kept longer than most and pushed back from his face. Most of his mane is the same dark black as it has always been, but from stress there is a thick streak of white that rolls back through his hair. His attire is that of the old English wizard: trousers and button up shirts with vests and full coats. He has no muggle clothing and wears either his suits, his vest, shirt and trousers, or robes over either. He doesn’t often smile these days, but he doesn’t sneer either. His look is simply that of a tired soul not sure how to react to the busy and young world around him. | |||||||||
| Schools: | None listed | |||||||||
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| Friend of: | 26: bubblyemily, butterbeeryum, daphnegreengras, delumination, dragonseeker, ezekiels, gryffindorgirl, guitarguru, hurryup_andwait, im_a_mac, laurmadley, meandmissjones, notabullfrog, prophetofregret, rabthestrange, rejuvi_npc, rolfscamander, saintmichael, songbirdbynight, sophiacapper, susiemarie, terranceboot, valorous_leanne, waynehopkins, wolfcooties, youngagain | |||||||||
| Member of: | 4: rejuvenated, rejuvi_backlogs, rejuvi_ooc, rejuvi_post | |||||||||
| Account type: | Free Patient | |||||||||
